


Maroo: Orokin Blood

by IsaWriting



Category: Warframe
Genre: Action, Action/Adventure, Adventure, Gen, Heist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:21:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23068396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IsaWriting/pseuds/IsaWriting
Summary: Maroo’s way of life was dying.The Tenno, their Warframes, had changed the Origin System: both on the front lines of the war, and in the shadows of the black markets. Jobs were getting harder to come by, money even more scarce.So when a mysterious ‘Newborn’ offers a job for ten thousand Platinum, she couldn’t refuse. The only problem was, it was to steal the Grineer’s most prized possession, something so well hidden, Maroo had never heard of it:Orokin Blood.With only a handful of days, Maroo has to pull off the hardest heist of her life, while trying to keep her two makeshift allies—an insane Cephalon and an exiled Tenno—from not ruining the only chance she has. She could live like an Orokin, but could she really steal from the Queen’s themselves?
Comments: 7
Kudos: 13





	1. "Ten Thousand Platinum"

**Author's Note:**

> New Chapters every other Friday! Follow me on Twitter (@IsaWriting) for updates! And, of course, thanks for reading!  
> This takes place before the Tenno awaken from the Second Dream.

Maroo ducked under a laser.

The Corpus were _too_ paranoid—well, rightfully so. She was here to steal their technology. But Void it all, she had reason to complain. The hoops she had to jump through, all for a side job… the system had become too uptight. All because of people like her.

The room purred with traps, cameras, and automated defense systems. And yet, Maroo waltzed through the Kubrowdon’s jaws as if she were at one of Ki Teer’s parties: A leap, a twirl, some pirouettes, and even a curtsey for extra flair. It helped that she had a small, thin frame--easy to move quickly, even easier to deceive others. Like all her equipment, her blue and black Aether-suit was custom-made, from her waist size down to the masked anti-personnel devices.

Of course, no amount of dancing would get the camera in the next corner to look aside. That’s why she came prepared. Maroo twirled the thin disc in her hand, a smirk on her lips. Thieving was all a big game of Komi: except you know all the moves beforehand. With hardly a whistle, it zipped through the air, cutting into the wall and flashing red.

The camera’s explosion was loud enough to please the ear, but not loud enough to alert anyone. After all, she had made sure no one was around the containment room. _Playing fair never really suited me,_ she thought, casually walking across where the camera would have spotted her. Every part in proper place, every step calculated. It was how she survived--thieving and living comfortably. Well, as comfortable as a thief with bounties in every faction _could_ live. Well worth the hassle, in her opinion.

All that remained was one locked door, holding what she needed. The whole reason she was here.

Her small fingers fiddled with the console on the wall, seducing it to open. With a sigh of submission, it opened to welcome her into the fortified holding area.

She stepped lightly as naturally as she breathed towards her prize, the prototype for a new Osprey. Maroo pressed a hand to it, feeling it condense into data. Now, the easy part, getting out—

A flash hit her mask’s sensors, temporarily blinding her.

Alarms blared. Heavy, mechanical footfalls avalanched toward the room.

“ _Damn_ it!” she grunted, desperately trying to regain her senses. _Scanners after retrieval now? What in the Void?_

Her optical feed de-fuzzed, revealing half a dozen crewmen and Moas. Guns held steady, triggers expecting her blood.

“Alright, I’m coming,” Maroo said, raising her hands. “No need for anything rough—”

She ducked, shooting nano-grenades out of her fingers.

The Corpus squad fell to the floor, overwhelmed by the electromagnetic pulses, unable to move. She smirked to herself as she ran,

_And_ that _is why I have those._

One mess up, one bad roll of chance, and her entire career was over. At best, killed on sight. At worst, crewmanized indefinitely. Not great options. So, she avoided all the risk she could. Have a backup plan. Have a backup-backup plan. Better yet, have someone do the heavy lifting for you. Riches couldn’t be enjoyed if you were dead.

Metallic ringing. Dissonant. Approaching. More proxies were coming. The whole ship was on high alert, aiming to catch her before she could escape. But, even the _Tenno_ don’t do what she was about to.

She whipped her hand to the side of her helm, activating the mask to fully cover her face, locking into the rest of her suit. Her tools were where she needed them. Finally, she tapped the buzzing sensor on her arm. Just a little farther. Distant stars shined through the glass in the next room—

Swarms of Corpus crewman, Ospreys, and Moas came from both sides. This time they had no intention of capturing her, opting to open fire on the spot. The sound _stung_ , even with the insulation around her ears. She rolled, dodging toward the windows. Her hand found the Quake-drill, glowing like a superheated, spinning knife. A quick jab ruptured the glass, causing the rest to implode from the pressure differential.

“Better than _Grineer_ accommodations,” she yelled to her attackers. “But, afraid I’ll being going now.”

With a flip, she entered the vacuum of space just as the emergency doors were shutting. The Corpus were no longer a threat, but she had no room to celebrate. With how thin her suit was --one graze, one loose thread, and her body would freeze and explode simultaneously.

Her momentum caused her to spin, weightless, but she still groped for what she was expecting. Her personal ship—the _Zetki Swallow—_ uncloaked, revealing its sleek design as its owner climbed inside. A press of the buttons turned the engine’s purr into a roar, tearing far away from the Corpus Obelisk.

~~

_All that trouble, for only fifty?_

Maroo flipped the chip through her fingers, holding the promised bid of fifty-thousand credits. That’d be enough to last her two weeks, if she spread it thin.

She walked through the tight compartments of her ship. It was her biggest asset and investment; far better what’s usually on the market for a light fighter. Orokin-grade engines, Orbiter cloaking tech, Solar Rail capabilities—everything a thief could dream of, and about all she had left.

Maroo slipped into the rations-storage and nabbed a sealed pack of food. The empty shelves sent a spike of anxiety down her back. _No, I have money. It’s okay._ She told herself. _I’ll find jobs. I always do._

The words were quickly swallowed by the rising tension in her head. She hadn’t expected to use her nano-EMPs back there. How many did she have left? Just a short walk led her to the armament room, even more hauntingly sparse. She crouched to look in a crate, seeing the tiny beads glowing as they rolled freely on the bottom.

“Muck.” She muttered. Twenty was all she had left. Just to take care of that small squad earlier took fifteen.

 _Fifty Thousand Credits won’t get me both food_ and _supplies,_ she bit her lip. With a grunt, Maroo stood, pacing to the cockpit. The hallways were littered with dirt and grime, tracked in from her missions across the system. It bugged her to no end, but she didn’t have time to clean. She was to pre-occupied with trying to survive. All her usual channels had run dry: they’d replaced her with far more reliable Tenno, leaving her with taking contracts no one else would.

She threw her helmet on the co-pilot’s seat, threw a dried piece of jerky into her mouth, and dropped into the much cushier—but worn-down—captain’s chair.

 _Damn Tenno got it easy,_ she thought. _Take all the easy prizes, leave only the risky or small scores for us humans._ Ever since the Warframes appeared, it became much harder to make a living. They could fight better, live longer, and—worst of all—steal more silently. Then again, if _she_ was a suit of armor that could blow up a town or be invisible all the time, _she’d_ be drowning in credits—no, Platinum. Everyone took credits, but even beggars had those. It was that special coin that could _really_ buy your way into things. And the _Tenno_ had the largest control of the market. Not to mention their personal Cephalons, Orbiters, omniscient mothers…

Maroo shook her head. No, she wasn’t the one to mope. If she had to adapt, that was what she was going to do. She’d just have to learn, to plan. It might take some time, but she always found a way. There was always a guaranteed success. One just had to _really_ look for it. Everyone else would be jumping to their death, while she lived—

Her Holo-communicator blipped. She reached for it on the ledge, lazily flicking it on. A projected screen appeared in front of her, displaying a new message. One from a name she did not recognize.

She jolted forward, scanning in every waveband around the ship. Who got her private address? How did they get it? Was her position compromised?

After triple-checking nothing was coming up, she turned to the holo-comm. That either meant she was safe, or she was going to die. She flipped all four of the metal switches to ready her escape pods. Just in case. The ship would be lost, but better than the alternative.

 _Maroo_ , the message read. _I have a proposition for you; one that only someone of your record could perform. Please, call this address back at any time. I look forward to our conversation._

_Newborn._

Newborn? She had never heard of that name. Who was this person?

Feeling she didn’t have much of a choice, she slipped her helmet on and called this… ‘Newborn’. They picked up immediately. She searched for anything to give her a clue but huffed when greeted with black. They weren’t showing themselves. Despite her sending video data, whatever _it_ was remained hidden.

“Maroo,” a deep, distorted voice said. “You look quite lovely.”

 _Doesn’t sound scrambled._ Which meant he wasn’t masking his voice. Probably.

“First you call a woman, then you don’t even show yourself?” She said. “I can’t be charmed if I can’t see your face, you know.”

“My apologies,” he said. “I am trying to be as honest as possible—”

“Yeah, _obviously_.”

“… but I must be cautious with my identity. Please, ease yourself. All I want is to propose a job. No strings attached, you can walk away from it without any consequences.”

Maroo held herself on edge. A man that could contact her privately without her knowing how wouldn’t just let her go.

“I can assure you,” he said, as if reading her thoughts. “I promise what I say is true. Say no, and you’ll never hear from me again. Just listen: I need something stolen from the Grineer. Specifically, something that could not be stolen for the past fifty years.”

“What, the Queen’s piss?” she snorted.

“Something close, despite your crudeness. I’m looking for something called ‘Orokin Blood’.”

“Never heard of it.” _It’s not real._

“No one has. No one except the Queen’s closest circle. They keep it with them at all times. However, sometimes, they have excess. Some they cannot store it all in their secure vaults. This will be your chance, get anything over a vial of it, and I shall pay you _handsomely_.”

“Uh-huh,” she rolled her eyes. “I’m not chasing something that I’ve never seen. I’ve been around a while, _Newborn_. And I can tell you if I haven’t seen it, it’s not real.”

“There is a reason no one has seen it; much like no one has ever seen the Queens. Because they guard it so closely. I cannot divulge more without you agreeing to this proposition, but you must believe me. I will pay you ten thousand—”

“Credits? Not worth chasing a fairy tale.”

“Platinum, actually, if you secure it.”

Maroo howled with laughter.

“ _Wow_!” she sighed. “First you say I should rob something that doesn’t exist? Then, offer _money_ that doesn’t exist? Bold moves, baby-man.”

“How about… five hundred. Up front.”

“You want me to chase this ‘Orokin Blood’? And you’ll give me five hundred Platinum right now, if I say yes?”

“That is correct.”

“Sure. I’m no idiot.”

She still chuckled to herself as she looked at her information, scanning for the amount of Platinum she had. Fifty sat in wait, only to be used in emergencies. The number remained stagnant. Maroo occasionally eyed the black screen, which was silent.

Her laughter died as the fifty rocketed to five hundred.

“It’s fake,” she said. “the Plat isn’t real.”

“See for yourself.”

She materialized some from her bank, snatching it and looking with an expert’s eye. Working in the thieving business lent itself well to hacking and forgery; and she had plenty of experience in both. She checked for the usual signs: missing inscriptions, incorrect aberrations, wrong lumen level. But everything was perfect: which may not confirm its authenticity, but it’d certainly fool any vendor.

Maroo was sitting on five hundred platinum. For a Tenno, that might be nothing. But for anyone else… for a thief who was nearly broke…

“Get at least one vial of their Orokin Blood, and that ten thousand Platinum will be yours.”

She had questions, but she knew she wouldn’t get answers. “Well, I agreed, didn’t I? Give me all the info you have. Can’t do a heist on just what you’ve said.”

~~

Maroo dredged through the thick snow of Pluto.

The wind howled, much like her insides screaming to return to her comfy ship. Couldn’t she have just messaged around, found people _willing_ to take on the job? Going this far to recruit someone who probably turned their holo-communicator into a bomb…

_The less people that know about this job, the better._ She reminded herself. If people knew about a ten thousand Plat score, she’d be robbed of it before it was even hers. Maroo needed this money: which meant she had to get allies who didn’t want payouts. Besides, this person was the best weapons and demolitions expert this side of the asteroid belt. That was enough to balance out their insanity.

It was strange; she had been traversing for almost half an hour and hadn’t seen a single sign of life. A blizzard was raging, nearly obscuring the path. No human could live in a place like this.

_“This is the only time the Queens have excess,”_ Maroo remembered, focusing on what Newborn said. _“I do not know when or where they’re storing it, but it will be off the Queen’s hands for a small window. One of the higher Grineer leaders will be managing this operation; and they will certainly be acting differently for such a task. Not often are they contacted by the Queens themselves._ ”

Finally, she found it. In the midst of endless white, a small cave entrance flickered with orange-red light. The roar of the weather died as she entered, accentuated by the small change in temperature. Only a short walk opened to a wide chasm, a damp high ceiling, musty air. Smells of oil and melted metal danced, surrounding piles of salvage and scattered workbenches.

“Mor,” Maroo said. “It’s me. Maroo—”

“ _You get out of here you thief!”_ An augmented voice screamed.

A force slammed into Maroo’s back, sending her crashing into the cold rock face. She was on her feet in an instant, shaking her head to fight the ringing in her ears.

“ _Mor_!” She cried. “Easy!”

A mechanical, heavily augmented body with the head of a Cephalon whipped around, holding a pistol so modified it looked more like a cannon than a sidearm. “Aha! Maroo! You step _far_ too lightly! Thankfully my mines are remote-activated!”

‘ _Thankfully’?_ Maroo thought. _Play it slow, cool. She’s already being friendly, keep it that way._

Mor turned. “Come to browse my wares?! Or perhaps, am I to look at your friends!” She said, looking at the pistol on Maroo’s hip.

“No… not this time.” She clutched her aching side, finding an empty work-bench to sit. Her feet dangled, letting her swing them. “I actually want to offer something.”

“Me?!” Mor said, picking up a rifle and cleaning it. “Are you giving me your friends! Oh! Oh! You know I take good care of them!” She pointed at a pile of weapons, all so far modified it was hard to tell what they were originally.

“No, I actually have a job. And I want you in.”

“…A job?” Mor said. “Like… a service job? A cleaning job? Oh! A _blowing up_ job?!”

“No, Mor.” Maroo forced herself to stay calm. “A thieving job. But don’t worry, it’ll be probably be a loud one.” _Keep the tone low,_ she thought. _Void knows she has this whole cave set to collapse. Just for the fun of it_.

“Oh! Oh! I like loud!” Mor said. “Who are we louding?!”

“The Grineer Queens.”

“Yes! Yes! Lots of loudness!”

“So, you’re in?”

“Mm-hmm! Mm-hmm! I want to _explode_ the—” The Cephalon stopped, freezing. An eerie silence filled the space, before being pierced by the Cephalon muttering. “No violence. No death. Only service. Only service. Only service. Only—”

“…Mor?” Maroo asked.

“Yes?”

“You’re… on this job?”

“Yes! Yes! I like loud jobs!”

“Good… I’ll uh, message you when I have a plan together. So make sure your Holo-comm works.”

“Of course! But, leaving so soon? Are you sure you don’t want me to at least look at your weapon?”

“It’s doing fine. I clean it like you told me to.” She lied.

“Good, good. I… look forward to hearing more about the loud job!”

“Lovely,” Maroo said, walking into the blizzard, where at least her ship could pick her up. Mor would provide any and all weapons she would need, and didn’t honestly know _what_ she would need, for a job like this.

She laughed to herself, as she walked up the ramp of her ship, eager to down some meds to heal. Mor was the easy one. The other one was even more necessary, but would be much harder to… convince.

~~

_At least the weather isn’t trying to kill me._

Despite the comforting thought, Maroo was tense, her suppressed Lex at the ready. An overgrown and abandoned Grineer base sprawled out before her, only accentuated by sounds of odd animals and leaves rustling.

There was no way he’d let Maroo just walk in. Or anyone walk in. But damn it, she _had_ to get one of _them_ on her squad. And like Mor, he’d leave more Plat for her.

She treaded carefully, avoiding any noise. The closer she could get, the better—

Maroo ducked at a shotgun blast. She rolled behind a broken slab of metal, peeking to see the threat. An Ember Warframe held a Hek, aiming with pinpoint accuracy. The Tenno didn’t approach, cautiously taking cover with a mossy boulder.

_A Shadow Specter,_ Maroo realized. _He wouldn’t have any real Tenno on his side._

She bolted, prompting the Ember’s weapon to snap. The roar of the shell echoed in the forest, sending a howl of pain through her shoulder. She grunted—just a graze—but was still enough to pop her shield.

_No wonder you have no friends,_ she thought spitefully. _You have the hospitality of a Ghoul._

The Ember deigned to follow, instead trying to hit her from afar. Maroo turned a corner, using the rail wall as cover, moving deeper into the derelict fortress. Xarra could be anywhere. She had a hunch she’d know when she found him. He didn’t have too many tricks up his… armor.

Knives whistled through the air as she stood again. Maroo rolled, hearing the shuddering impact of the edges digging into the metal. A Wukong Warframe sat in the trees, watching her closely; another specter. From his vantage, it could see down the entire path. There were no doors, no windows, no alternate routes she could take.

“Xarra, you damn _Anansa_!” Maroo roared. The amount she was going through…

It’d be worth it in the end.

She readied her Lex. If she played it right, she wouldn’t have to kill the specter. There probably wasn’t even enough firepower on her for that. Peeking the corner earned another whistle, thud of the Kunai quaking in the floor beside her.

_Right,_ she thought to herself. _If I die right now, it was a good run._

She turned onto the path, sliding low to avoid more attacks. The Wukong missed all three shots, impaling the wall. She jolted to her feet, aimed locked at its chest. One shot. Two. Three. Four. The suppressed fire died to forced _clicks_. Maroo focused, seeing the Warframe stagger, stumbling on the branch, before falling to the ground.

Maroo sighed, lowering the gun, before a Kunai zipped past, cutting her arm.

“ _Muck it all!_ ” She screamed, stomping onward, clutching her arm. No _way_ did Xarra have more than two specters. He probably felt sick after looking at just one.

Turning a few more corners led to a wide empty room. The roof had long since decayed, leaving massive leaves to stoop inside. Several stagnant pools of water sat in dented areas of the floor; dirt, grime, and lichen flourishing in them. Only one corner of the room was masked by darkness. But Maroo could distinguish one pool hidden in the penumbra. One that looked clean.

She raised the pistol and shot. “Xarra. If I climbed all the way through your _muckin_ ’ maze, at least don’t hide when I find you.”

The pool shrunk, coalescing at the middle. As if molded by invisible hands, it formed into a vaguely human shape. Color and texture returned, revealing Xarra, and his Hydroid Warframe.

“You could have knocked.” His voice was as rough as the debris under her feet.

“Oh, I’m sorry. My hospitality was _shot off my Voiddin’ back!_ ” She said. “You better be thankful I went through all of this. I got a good job for you.”

“Not interested.”

“Oh, _no no,_ ” Maroo shook her head. “You are _not_ doing that to me. I played your little game, went to all the trouble of reaching out to you. At least be a decent person and hear me out.”

“I’m not interested in doing any jobs.”

“It’s against the Grineer.”

“You didn’t hear me.”

“It’s a small crew.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“You’d be doing Lotus a favor.”

He hesitated. The sign Maroo needed to continue, “could put you in some good standing.”

“That’s not possible. Don’t patronize me.”

“I’m not. I wouldn’t take two injuries through your damn specters just to patronize you. I went through all this Ghoulsack for _you_ , Xarra. Not another Tenno.”

“…How many on the crew?”

“Three. Including you.”

“How long will the job take?”

“A few weeks, depending. Got to get some intel before we fully strategize.”

“And what are we getting out of it?”

Maroo clenched her teeth. The reason she was so adamant about Xarra was because he didn’t care about the bounties, usually. Every other Tenno would nab her for all it was worth. They’d know she’d need a Tenno for something like this.

“One hundred Platinum,” she said.

“You lied. Took too long to respond.”

“One thousand.”

“No, it’s higher,” he growled. “I thought you didn’t come to patronize me.”

“ _Ten thousand, alright!_ ” She said, before kicking herself. Did she really let it slip? Her nerves were on edge. If all of this amounted to the same result as another Tenno…

“By the Void…” He muttered. “That is… a lot.”

“It is. But I’m getting a majority cut. No arguing on that.”

“Fine,” he waved. “I don’t care much anyway. I’ll take one thousand. Not like that _won’t_ last me until the end of the next millennia.”

“…Good,” she sighed, too worn to hide her surprise. “I’ll message you when I have more of a plan.”

“Okay.”

She turned toward the exit. Now she had a Warframe’s power. Who knows what she’d run into on this; Void knew you had to have a Tenno for _any_ job these days.

But now she had her crew. Small enough to get the job done, while still keeping her share fat. Mor could handle diversions, weapons, explosives; they’d be ready for any tech that they’d face. Xarra could bail them out if things got too rough. And Maroo? Well, she’d do all the work. As usual.

She made one step before remembering something crucial.

“Xarra?”

“Mm.”

“Call off your damn specters. I’m not doing this again.”


	2. The Errand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maroo’s way of life was dying.  
> The Tenno, their Warframes, had changed the Origin System: both on the front lines of the war, and in the shadows of the black markets. Jobs were getting harder to come by, money even more scarce.  
> So when a mysterious ‘Newborn’ offers a job for ten thousand Platinum, she couldn’t refuse. The only problem was, it was to steal the Grineer’s most prized possession, something so well hidden, Maroo had never heard of it:  
> Orokin Blood.  
> With only a handful of days, Maroo has to pull off the hardest heist of her life, while trying to keep her two makeshift allies—an insane Cephalon and an exiled Tenno—from not ruining the only chance she has. She could live like an Orokin, but could she really steal from the Queen’s themselves?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New Chapters every other Friday! Follow me on Twitter (@IsaWriting) for updates! And, of course, thanks for reading!  
> This takes place before the Tenno awaken from the Second Dream.

Maroo tapped her foot in the cockpit as the Holo-Comm kept ringing.

_Pick up, you dumb tin suit._ _I don’t have all cycle._

“… _Profit_ ,” A voice said. “Maroo? It’s been ages!”

“I need a favor, Volt.”

As his name implied, a Volt Warframe was on the screen, adorned in excessive armor accessories. A large blue Perrin Sequence logo sat on his chest, with a neon color scheme to match. Like a lot of Tenno, he couldn’t remember his real name. So he went by the name of his Warframe, since it was all he ever used.

“Ah, I don’t do favors. Except when I do,” he played with a Komi chip.

“I’m serious. I’ll pay.”

“Woah!” He said. “You? Paying for something? Must be serious.”

“ _Volt_. Running a tight schedule. And don’t ask.”

“Fine, fine. Although I _am_ curious, can’t lie. What’s it you need?”

“Information on all the high-up Grineer activity. One should be acting… off.”

She shifted in her seat, an instinct within making her kick herself for giving away so much information. Making deals with others was a game of strong-arming, except when it came to Volt. Maroo didn’t know how he could exist; but he was certainly the kindest informant she’d ever worked with.

“Really? That’s it?”

“If I had the time to scout, I’d do it myself. You know I would.”

“This must be a _really_ small window.”

“It is.”

“…Alright. I’m not tight on credits at the moment, so while I’m getting that, you can run an… errand for me.”

“What do I look like, a damn operative? I’m not your meat shield.”

“And I’m not your personal secretary. Call it a trade—you do this for me, and I’ll have what you need by the time you’re done.”

Maroo crossed her arms, “what am I stealing?”

Volt laughed. “I wouldn’t say ‘stealing’. I’d say you’ll be… leaving a gift.”

* * *

“Why are we here?” Xarra asked.

_Trust me, I didn’t want you here either_. Maroo thought. “I needed some extra hands. This is for the job.”

“The _loud_ job!” Mor said.

“Yes,” Maroo sighed. “But we have to be _quiet_ for this one.”

“Oh, being quiet is _boring!_ ”

The three lay in the snow, scoping a Corpus shipyard from a nearby cliff. When Volt said ‘leaving a gift’, he wanted to bomb a ship. The yard was a giant rectangle, various small transport vessels and cruisers resting in designated spots. Watchtowers were perched intermittently, including on the tall walls, with snipers and techs waiting in each one. It would be a quick enough task with the three of them. Hopefully.

“Why did you bring _it_?” Xarra said, nodding to Mor.

“She only blew me up _once_ trying to talk to her,” Maroo said. “Nicer than you.”

He grunted.

“Oh! Xarra!” Mor said. “Can I see your _swords_?” She stared at the Nami Skyla on his back.

“No.”

“But—”

“Touch them and I’ll drown you.”

“Okay,” the cephalon sighed. “Be _boring_ like Maroo.”

“There,” Maroo said, lowering her scope. “I see it. It’s towards the middle. Let’s take one of the watchtowers while they have their backs turned, get a better vantage, and leave the explosives when no one is looking.”

“ _Explosives_!” Mor said.

“Quiet.”

Keeping to the cover of the cliff, they made their way toward the wall, Xarra twirling through the air like a dart to get ahead. Electrical burns and Corpus industrial chemicals tickled her nose from the harsh wind. _This is way more effort than scouting_ , she thought. But, they didn’t have time. Newborn didn’t know exactly how long Maroo would have to grab the Orokin Blood, but he did know it’d be very short.

The wall stretched upward a dozen meters; the tower nearly thirty. Luckily, she didn’t need a Tenno’s finesse. Maroo’s legs were bolstered by her suit, allowing her to jump to the top and through the open-air windows.

“Pardon the intrusion,” she said to the guards, hitting each with an EMP-blade. They crumpled—a clean and silent entry. Xarra and Mor flipped in, the cephalon’s mechanical body creaking far too loudly. If it weren’t for the constant drone of repairs, they’d have heard her coming a kilometer away.

“Alright,” Maroo pointed. “There’s the ship.”

From their tower, it was too far. Getting closer amidst all the security would be tough.

“Should have told me what we were doing,” Xarra said. “Could have brought my Lenz.”

“Too late for regrets,” Maroo said. “We’re doing this the old-fashioned way.”

“I _love_ the Lenz!” Mor said. “I made mine have the _bow_ explode too!”

Xarra put a hand on his mask. Maroo ignored them both.

_Volt better have what I Voiddin’ need._ She thought, scanning the control center. Nothing had labels—the crewmen probably had the layout stamped into their brain. Not to mention that there were _thousands_ of buttons, levers, and switches. Nothing here could help.

“Xarra,” Maroo said. “You’re a Tenno. Hop over there and plant the explosives.”

“ _Explosives!_ ” Mor said.

“Shut it. We can’t be caught, so keep it down.”

“No,” Xarra said.

“No?” Maroo said. “What do you mean, _no_?”

“I’m not going to be ordered around.”

“It’s the best plan!”

“I’m not some tool. You too are a master at stealth. You could do it.”

Maroo groaned, shaking her head. They didn’t have much time. When this tower had been quiet for too long…

She examined the yard again, finding the ship before studying the patrols. If Xarra was going to be an Anansa, she _would_ have to do it herself. Just like everything else. The others stood with her, “Fine. Keep watch. I’ll—”

Alarms pierced the cacophony of the machinery. Bolt-fire singed the metal and electrical panels. The three of them ducked, looking at each other.

“Change of plan,” Maroo said. “We’re charging that ship and taking down everything in our way. _Fast_.” They nodded.

“Mor,” Maroo said.

The cephalon looked inquisitively.

“Go _crazy_.”

Mor stopped, “Only service. Only service. Only. Service…”

“What is she—” Xarra asked.

A streak of blue came through the window, bouncing off a control panel before rolling to the floor. Ticking. Maroo didn’t have time to check if Mor would be okay. She jumped, watching Xarra unsheathe his swords as he fell on the other side of the tower. The grenade exploded, shaking the metal structure and punching Maroo with a shock wave. She unholstered two Lexes and flipped to her feet as she landed, suit absorbing the impact. Moas and Ospreys opened fire. Maroo ducked and rolled toward the nearest ship, blasting the proxies with pinpoint accuracy. One down. Two down. Four down. Out of the corner of her vision, Xarra sliced through the Corpus, almost looking _bored._

Something grabbed her.

She tumbled onto the cold steel, surrounded by the remaining Moas and the Crewmen who flanked her. One of her Lexes slid out of reach. The leading Tech spoke in their heavy mechanized dialect, raising his boot—

Maroo flicked her wrist, pointing the gun at his chest, clicking the trigger. Her arm flared with pain at the recoil. Boltfire rained—she spun, twirling through the opening in their circle. Everything flashed red: her shield was off. She clenched her jaw, stinging burns erupted on her thigh and stomach. Maroo snatched the other Lex and opened fire, unloading everything she had. She panted as the last Moa fell, scream she didn’t know she was making dying in her throat.

And Xarra watched. His swords sheathed, arms crossed.

“Xarra?!” She said. “Were you just… standing there?”

“Mm.”

“Are you _muckin’_ kidding me?! I was in some deep _ghoulsack_!”

“No shields off my back. Hurry up and get this done.”

He walked towards their target, lazily retrieving his Nami Skyla as the fresh squad of Moas marched toward him. _What in the Void is your problem? I die, you lose any potential loot. I thought you Tenno were supposed to be friendly, dammit._

Another force of Corpus approached. Maroo welcomed the thought of blasting proxies apart, but they all exploded. Then another explosion nearby made Maroo stumble. Then another rocked the ground.

Mor jumped from place to place unexpectedly fast, like a rocket powered Warframe who made everything they touched blow up. One ship, then two, clusters, the whole yard was being ripped apart. In the rare moments of silence, the cephalon’s maniacal laughter reverberated through the air.

Their mission. Maroo could deal with Xarra and Mor later.

She dashed. The Corpus scrambled, unsure which target had their priority, confused as what to do about the ships. In the chaos, Maroo dodged the sprinting groups, finding the cargo transporter they were looking for. She stuck the explosives to the underbelly, leaping to get away.

Four Techs approached. One saw Maroo, alarmed, and rallied the others, charging her. She smiled and beckoned them. They were going to pass the ship. _Just a little closer…_

Equipment, debris, and the Crewmen flew over the wall as the transporter exploded, leaving the remnants collapsed in fire. With a satisfied sigh, she steeled herself.

“Mor, Xarra,” she said into their channel. “We’re done here. Rendezvous at the entry point.”

“Understood,” Xarra said.

“ _I’m not done yet!_ ” Mor screamed.

“Mor!” Maroo said. “We have to go!”

“I’m having _fun_!”

The whole yard was ablaze; causing the troops to have a full-scale retreat. Mor was flying through the air using the rockets she built into her body, frantically scanning for more to attack. The Cephalon found a target, leaving a deafening sonic-boom in her wake.

“Xarra!” Maroo called. “Get her!”

“I’m not getting close to _that_!”

Maroo fumed, thinking. She _needed_ Mor, no matter how crazy she was. _Maybe…_

“Alright Mor,” she screamed. “ _Blow up everything!_ ”

“Maroo,” Xarra started. “What—"

The explosions stopped.

“Only service. Only service,” Mor said. “Only— _no_ , I’m enjoying myself—Service. Only service. Only— _stop!_ ”

“Mor!” Maroo yelled. “We’re leaving!”

“Fine! Whatever!”

Trusting that her companions would make it to the cliff, Maroo jumped over the wall, running towards safety, but more pressingly, her lead.

* * *

“Oh! What’s this—”

“Don’t touch _anything_ , Mor.” Maroo said, sitting in the pilot’s seat and drinking recovery fluids. Xarra sat in the co-pilot’s seat like a brooding statue. He wouldn’t let them on his Orbiter, and Mor didn’t have a ship, which meant the only place they could gather and talk to Volt was on Maroo’s _Swallow_.

“He is late,” Xarra said.

“Give him a minute,” Maroo said. “He doesn’t have the free time to wallow in his own thoughts like you.”

Xarra didn’t respond.

Maroo thought this was a good idea, at first. Why get the information and have to relay it around, when they could all hear it at once? It saves time. Time they might need. But, Void it all, why did it _have_ to be her ship?

“Mor,” Maroo sighed. “Stop. Touching. Things.”

The Cephalon shied away from a control panel that Maroo didn’t know _could_ flash red.

“Mor,” Xarra said. “Why did you stop yourself today?”

“What?”

“When Maroo told you to blow everything up.”

“Why should I tell _you_?” Mor said.

“The boredom of waiting has me curious.”

“…I don’t know. I just… froze for a moment.”

Maroo listened, surprised at how normal the cephalon sounded. Mor continued,

“When people tell me not to, when my head tells me not to, I just want to do it _more_! It’s fun! It’s what _I_ want to do! But, when I— _No_! I’m not talking about this—”

The Holo-Comm beeped.

Maroo answered, bringing up a floating screen of Volt.

“Wow, thanks for the party invite, Maroo,” he said.

“I hope you saw we took care of your ‘errand’, tin suit. You better have what I need.”

“Yeah, yeah, everyone on Neptune saw it, quite frankly. At least you covered your target by blowing up half the yard, good thinking.”

“You know I know what I’m doing.”

Xarra rubbed the front of his mask.

“Now,” Maroo said. “What did you _find?_ ”

“There wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. At least, with _almost_ everyone.”

“I don’t have time for games.”

“Hope you like Earth,” Volt said. “Because I’m guessing that’s where you’re headed.”

“Vor?”

“No. Way worse.”

“Vay Hek?”

“There it is. A lot of movement to and from his compound, but he hasn’t left it for at least a week. Not even for Councilor business.”

_A whole week?_

“Thanks, Volt,” Maroo said. “Pleasure doing business with you.”

“The pleasure was mine! Stop by Orcus sometime—”

Maroo disconnected the call, turning towards the others. “We’re moving, _now_.”

Xarra stood, “I will get to my Liset—”

“No you won’t tin suit, sit down. I hate you being here too, but we need to scout that place now. Have your Orbiter tag along, but any second we lose could cost us.”

“We don’t need to hurry—”

“If this ‘Orokin Blood’ never leaves the Queens’ side, a week is too damn long. Hek could already have it, it could be leaving right now. Who knows, if we’re lucky, he hasn’t even received anything yet. But we don’t know for sure. We have to go and check.”

Maroo put in the coordinates of Earth. Xarra sat back in the seat, while Mor clutched a handle on the wall. She didn’t know what they’d find, what the plan was, or even if anything would work. She had two dysfunctional allies going into a military compound armed to the teeth, stealing from the craziest Grineer she had ever heard of.

_This will all be worth it,_ Maroo told herself, but not entirely believing it.


	3. Vey Hek's Compound: Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maroo’s way of life was dying.  
> The Tenno, their Warframes, had changed the Origin System: both on the front lines of the war, and in the shadows of the black markets. Jobs were getting harder to come by, money even more scarce.  
> So when a mysterious ‘Newborn’ offers a job for ten thousand Platinum, she couldn’t refuse. The only problem was, it was to steal the Grineer’s most prized possession, something so well hidden, Maroo had never heard of it:  
> Orokin Blood.  
> With only a handful of days, Maroo has to pull off the hardest heist of her life, while trying to keep her two makeshift allies—an insane Cephalon and an exiled Tenno—from not ruining the only chance she has. She could live like an Orokin, but could she really steal from the Queen’s themselves?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New Chapters every other Friday! Follow me on Twitter (@IsaWriting) for updates! And, of course, thanks for reading!  
> This takes place before the Tenno awaken from the Second Dream.

“I see you have found yourself a… crew.”

Newborn spoke from behind the murky black of the Holo-comm screen, seeing Maroo, Mor, and Xarra packed into the cockpit of the _Swallow_. “Cephalon Mor, wanted by the Corpus Board for over two million credits in stolen or destroyed property, and Xarra: the ‘Pillager of the Junctions.’ Their talent certainly is not lacking.”

Xarra clenched the armrests of his seat.

“I didn’t call you so you could mock them,” Maroo said. “I have my reasons.”

“So, you have an update?” Newborn said.

“Vey Hek is the one leading the transfer.”

“… He is probably the most loyal to the Queens, therefore their best candidate.”

“He hasn’t left his compound in a week. We’re en route to see if anything has developed there,” Maroo said.

“A _week?_ Which one?”

“One on Earth.”

“If he’s had this task for that long, you will have to do more than scout,” Newborn said.

“You mean it might already be there?”

“That, or whatever Hek is planning is about to come to fruition. There is no time to waste, Maroo.”

“I need time to—”

“There _is_ no time. You will just have to infiltrate and get any intelligence you can.”

“You can’t just tell me to sneak into Vey Voiddin’ Hek’s military stronghold! You think spying is something people do on a whim? Something like this should take _weeks_ of prep.”

“I know it’s not that simple, but there is no other option.”

“…Any other ‘ _suggestions_ ’ I should know about?”

“One trace of evidence and our deal is off.”

“ _What_?” Maroo said.

“It will not be by choice. If either Hek or the Queens feel their Orokin Blood is at risk, they will hide it, or destroy it.”

“For _muck’s_ sake…” _How is it_ this _precious to the Grineer, and I’ve never heard of it?_ At first, she was just trying to play along for the money, but the evidence pointed to the Orokin Blood being real.

“All you need is a transfer location and time. Once you have that, get out.”

“Don’t tell me how to do my job, Baby-man. I’ll let you know when I have any more info,” she slammed her fist against the holo-comm, cutting the connection. With a sigh, she leaned into the cushioning of her chair, hearing a noise she shouldn’t have heard—metallic clicking.

“Mor!” She turned. “Is that… is that my Pyrana?”

“Uh…” The Cephalon tapped her fingers together, one hand clutching what looked like a miniature artillery cannon. “It _was_ … but it’s better—”

“You better have a way to put it back the way it was, dammit!”

“But it’ll explode when you finish the clip!”

“Fix it, or I’m ejecting you into the Voiddin’ sun.”

The Cephalon slumped, “ _Fine_.”

“Did you see her walk out?” Maroo looked at Xarra. “Did you notice she left?”

“Mm.”

“Why didn’t you _tell_ me?”

“The Cephalon isn’t my problem.”

“You’ve got to be the worst Tenno the system has, _Ghoulsack_.”

Xarra’s fists tightened for an instant, “I don’t like him.”

“Me either,” Mor said, as one of the modifications on the shotgun-pistol crashed to the ground.

“He’s got Platinum. And a lot of it,” Maroo said. “That’s all that matters. Besides, it’s like he said, once we get this—just a quick ambush and we’ll be done.”

Xarra scoffed.

“Now, if you’ll leave me alone and _not_ touch _anything_ ,” Maroo eyed Mor. “I’ll be throwing together something resembling a plan.”

* * *

The _Swallow_ landed itself in a clearing amidst the thick jungles of Earth. Plants throbbed, streams whistled their quiet melodies, and the wildlife screamed louder ones. Even parked a kilometer away, the spires of Vey Hek’s compound twisted in the distance like a misshapen Sydon plunged into the ground.

“Alright,” Maroo said, walking down the ramp. “Here’s the plan. _You_ two are staying here.”

“What?” They both said.

“Sorry,” Maroo shrugged. “There’s too little time. We can’t afford mistakes—you heard him. Sneaking will be much easier if its only one of us.”

“And you don’t want the _Tenno_ doing it? That’s ridiculous. I’m coming too,” Xarra said.

“ _No_. I’ve come up with a plan, but it only works with one of us.”

“That place is massive. You’re going to be able to find where the data is hidden quick enough? The longer you’re there, the higher your risk of failure.”

Maroo bit her lip, “you got me there, but still. With _Ten Thousand_ Plat on the line, I can’t afford taking any chances. I just need to find a data-vault, swipe that info, and I’ll be done.” Her suit pressed her skin harder—she’d loaded up everything she could possibly need. This would leave her with no gear, but once she had her cash, she could re-stock to Eris and back.

“Look,” Xarra said. “I understand how tight this is… You know why I want to do this.”

“You want to impress Lotus.”

“Let me do something here. I’ve done plenty of spy-class missions. I know the ropes.”

Maroo had to hold a chuckle—she had never thought she’d live to see Xarra beg for something. _That wounded Tenno pride sure is something…_ “Fine. But we stay in close communication—”

“I’m coming too!” Mor said.

“Sweet _Void_ no you’re not,” Maroo snapped.

“Why not?”

“Well, there’s the insane tic you have, your love for explosives, and your one-man band of a mechanical body, for starters.”

“That’s not fair! Xarra is going but I can’t?”

“Xarra understands ‘quiet’. Look Mor, this mission isn’t _loud_. It can’t be—”

“You’ll be able to go on the ambush with us afterword—” Xarra started.

“You told me this was a _loud_ job!” Mor said, face deepening in hue. “You told me I could _loud_ things!”

The Cephalon looked at the ship.

“Whoa whoa _whoa_!” Maroo raised her hands. “Fine! You can come!”

“ _Maroo_ ,” Xarra said.

“Yay! Yay! _Loud_!” Mor cheered.

“I don’t want to come back to my ship in pieces,” she said. “I have an idea. Mor,”

“Mm?”

“You can come, but you need to do something for us on this mission.”

“Oh?”

“We need you to secure our escape route.”

“Like, blow a hole in the wall?”

“No. If we’re caught, they’re going to come after us. If we can’t get to the ship—”

“I see what you’re doing!” Mor pointed. “I’m not going to be a guard-Cephalon while you guys go off on the _real_ fun!”

“Dammit,” Maroo muttered. “Fine. Can your suit be… less loud?”

“Mhm! Mhm!” Mor nodded. Her body smoothed itself, juts and parts folding inward, leaving a sleek design. The Cephalon flailed her limbs, but no sound reached Maroo’s ears over the natural ambience.

“Good enough,” Maroo sighed.

“This is insane,” Xarra said.

“We’ll make it work.”

“With _Mor_? You’re joking.”

“We’ll have to. Besides, ‘no shields off your back,’ right?” Maroo watched Mor study her own body. “We’re wasting time. We’ll just have to keep her on a tight leash.”

Xarra grunted, but followed as Maroo trekked towards the compound. She held her holographic map in her hand, occasionally eyeing the other two behind her. The only plan she had was derailed, and now had to improvise getting in and out of Vey Hek’s compound with an insane Cephalon. That was bad enough, but there was one more thing bothering her.

Xarra. _Why is he being so…friendly?_

A few hours ago, he’d almost watched her die like it was Rathuum. Now he’s desperate to come along. Under different circumstances, she’d look into it more, sniff out what he’s really up to. But Maroo needed everything she could get. And a Tenno would come in handy for something like this.

They didn’t encounter any Grineer until they were outside the walls. Not even a trail led to the base on any side—as if Hek just dropped it into the Earth. Hard crashes and thumps streamed from the massive, military-green walls, overcast by ear-ringing broadcasts of Vey Hek’s messages. Maroo, Mor, and Xarra hid in the foliage, watching Lancers and Troopers march on patrol.

_At least there’s an acoustic cover_ , Maroo thought. But it didn’t alleviate the coalescing dread sinking in her stomach. There were too many unknowns, too many potential mistakes. _Am I really risking everything on this_? The weight of the suit tugged at her, as if wanting to pull her back.

“I’m going to check the other side,” Xarra said.

Maroo nodded: they had rough scans, but needed more information. The Tenno waited for an opening, leapt high, kicking off a thick tree trunk and grabbing the wall’s ledge. He scanned the other side, dropped and launched off the wall back into the forest before any eyes could see him.

“About there,” he pointed. “Big pack of crates in an otherwise empty yard. Only three soldiers. Lazy ones. There’s a terminal down a close alley too.”

“Good. Think we can get map-data?”

“It’s possible.”

“Okay, Mor,” Maroo said. “ _Keep. Quiet._ You follow and you don’t act out.”

“But that’s boring _!_ ” Mor said.

“ _Mor_.”

“Fine, fine. But only because I’ll get to blow up stuff on the next mission. Right?”

“Absolutely. Now, go on me.”

Maroo waited, letting the current gap close, opting for the next one. No risks could be taken—she was already pushing her luck on that. She rushed and leapt with boosted legs, grabbing hold of the wall at the apex of her jump, only taking a moment to scan the area and find where Xarra had described. She flipped over the wall, hearing Mor and Xarra doing the same. The three landed behind the stacked boxes, and Maroo listened—making sure no one was coming to investigate. Or worse.

“I saw the alley,” Maroo muttered. “That way.”

Xarra nodded.

“Oh!” Mor shouted. “We could—”

The Tenno tackled her to the ground, “ _Void_. You’ve really never done this, have you? Don’t talk.”

“Maroo!” Mor said. “Get him off of me!”

“You _were_ being loud—”

“ _How DARE you!_ ”

A voice made Maroo snap to cover. It didn’t come from anywhere close. But she knew that harsh, grating tone. She’d been hearing the broadcasts since they got close.

Councilor Vey Hek floated over the three guards watching the yard, beady orange eyes taut with anger. His normal body was long gone, replaced with a massive mechanical form that looked like a toy ship brought to the size of three men. Various parts wiggled or rotated, watching the blind spots of its master. The only flesh remaining was his face, held by a long neck-like appendage.

“…Ga—” The guard started.

“You think you can speak with _me_!” Hek spat. “You barely have the privilege to _BREATHE_ around me! You could have jeopardized _everything!_ Have you no _respect_ , no _LOVE_ , for your Queens?”

“M-my…”

“I want to see you in the _Brig_!” Hek’s voice cracked. “If you are _obedient_ enough, then _maybe_ — _maybe—_ I shall reinstate you!”

The guard nodded, trembling.

“ _Get. Out. Of. MY. SIGHT!_ ” Hek roared.

The Lancer scrambled away. Hek turned, expression sweaty and tense, and sped towards the entrance.

“He certainly seems stressed,” Maroo said. “Mor, you understand why we have to be quiet now?”

“I know, I know—”

“Then no loud noises. No loud _anything_.”

“ _Okay_!” She muttered. “I get it!”

“Good. Xarra, get off her.”

The Tenno begrudgingly obliged, keeping his harsh stare on the Cephalon as she dusted herself off. Maroo peaked around the tower of crates, checking the direction of the alley for any wanderers. After a minute of silence, she nodded to the others. They broke cover, hugging the edge, watching the space between the buildings. The computer terminal jutted from the wall, next to a round, metal door.

“You sure this will give us map data?” Maroo asked.

“It will if our Cephalon accesses it,” Xarra said.

“What?” Mor said.

“Let’s give it a try,” Maroo nodded.

“Wait—”

Maroo and Xarra slid to the console, watching both exits. Yet, Mor didn’t move.

“Mor,” Maroo said. “What are you doing?”

“I’m not your servant!” She hissed. “Just because I’m a Cephalon doesn’t mean I can do work you’re too _lazy_ to do! Either of you could hack in!”

“But you’re better at it than we are. You can get deeper than either of us.”

“I don’t do Cephalon work! I’m _Mor_! I’m different!”

“If you’re on this job you need to carry your weight,” Xarra said. “Or else you’re worse than useless.”

Mor tensed, fists clenched firmly at her sides.

“I-I’m not _useless_.” She muttered.

“Good,” Maroo said. “Then prove it. We don’t have time for you to stand there and pout.”

Mor’s fists shook, before two of her fingers morphed to fit the ports of the terminal. She jabbed them in, making the screen shake. Like a digital storm, thousands of prompts, textboxes, and pop-ups blurred past, the Cephalon having no trouble getting access to everything.

“I hear talking,” Maroo muttered. “Mor, make it quick.”

She grunted. Which turned into a low growl, “I’m no Cephalon… I’m _me_! I’m _me!_ ”

The console exploded.

“ _Mor_ ,” Maroo said. “What did you _do_?” She scanned the area. It wasn’t loud, but the smoke fuming out of the case was not a good sign.

“I-I told you I don’t do Cephalon work! But, don’t worry! It wasn’t loud! Like I promised!”

“You _muckin_ ’—”

“Guards,” Xarra said.

The three bolted back the way they came, sliding to cover.

“I… made it look like a short!” Mor said. “A really big one!”

Maroo shushed her. Two Troopers approached in a jog—a good sign. They didn’t assume there was an enemy. But it wouldn’t last long. _As soon as they see the terminal…_

The soldiers checked the alley, starting at the smoking computer. Maroo reached for her pistol. They were still close to the wall, they could still get out. Xarra reached for the swords on his back.

“As soon as they radio in, we leave,” Maroo said.

“But—” Mor said.

“That intel is useless if they know we have it. They aren’t taking any risks—”

The two guards eyed each other, before turning and walking off, one throwing his hands up and shaking his head.

Maroo sighed, feeling like a gun was taken off her temple.

“See!” Mor whispered. “I told you—”

Maroo slammed a bolstered arm into the Cephalon’s mechanical chest, “you do _anything_ like that again, and I will leave you here as a consolatory gift for Vey Hek. Am I _clear_?”

Mor nodded. The Cephalon didn’t have eyes, but Maroo could still sense the budding fear.

“I’ll go get the map data,” Xarra said. “You two should go back to our entry point—no one will look there.”

“Right,” Maroo nodded. “Thanks, Xarra.”

Xarra chuckled, “don’t thank me, thank Mor.”

“Me?”

But the Tenno didn’t respond. He leapt, climbing the two walls of the alley.

“Mor. Come on,” Maroo said, nodding towards the stacks of crates. The Cephalon pouted, but joined Maroo, watching for any potential soldiers.

“Why do you expect me to do Cephalon stuff when I told you that I don’t do it?” Mor said.

“Because you _are_ a Cephalon. That’s what you do.”

“No! I’m not a Cephalon. I… don’t want to be.”

“Oh come on, ‘Only Service’? You can’t stray too far.”

“That’s not—…” Mor trailed off, making Maroo smile. _You know I’m right_. The thief glanced at her, before returning to her careful watch.

“Xarra—” Mor started.

“Xarra is a Tenno. Like how you bots are made for digital things, _he’s_ made for this kind of thing. Don’t be mad I let him run off on his own for a minute.”

“Is that why he’s on the middle tower?”

“ _What_?”

Maroo whipped to view the other side. Xarra was climbing toward an open vent, watching below for any wandering eyes.

“Xarra,” Maroo said into comms. “What are you doing?”

“Getting the data.”

“The map-data? That’s a tad overkill.”

“No, I have that. The intel. You two can just wait. It will not take me long.”

Maroo clenched her jaw. He wasn’t that heroic to get it for the group, why would he want it for himself? What good would the intel do in Xarra’s hands? He couldn’t sell it off, and he sure as the Void wouldn’t turn it in to the Grineer.

_But he would turn it over to the Lotus._

“Damn it,” Maroo grunted. “Mor? Can you fly? _Quietly_?”

“I can!” Mor nodded, springing to her feet.

“Good. Follow my lead. And make _sure_ we’re not seen.”

“Mmm!”

Maroo checked her suit—this was one of the reasons she brought everything. She didn’t know what she might need. She traversed as fast as she dared, Mor following with a spring in her step, until they were near the base of one of the towers. Levels of balconies encircled each spire like rings, with their own snipers and patrols.

Maroo didn’t think as she ignited the Icarus, small boosters placed at key points, and wobbled in the air. The sound was quiet, for a propulsion system, but roared in her ears in the silence between machine movements. She steadied, shooting towards the first balcony, and carefully grasping it magnetically at her hands and feet. Mor landed next to her.

“Oh, I see!” Mor whispered. “Clever!”

_Funny way to say ‘insane’._ Footsteps trembled the metal platform mere centimeters from Maroo’s head, hammering the spike of fear into her side with each shake. It was stupid—one glance upward, one bored back scratch, and Maroo’s ten thousand Platinum was gone. She looked at the ground, hoping to see another path to the vent. Coming up short, her mind scrambled. _What if we got map data, and got to the intel first?_ But that wouldn’t work. No point in racing a Tenno. There really wasn’t a choice.

She curled her hands into fists, “Mor, be ready. We’re flying over to that vent as soon as there is an opening.”

The Cephalon nodded.

Maroo closed her eyes. The metal ringing above her grew strong. Hissing from somewhere, then a loud, quaking crash. More ringing above. Another crash. Less ringing, now distant ringing. A hiss.

“Now,” Maroo said. Her heart clenched, hoping to the Void that no one on that balcony was looking in her direction. The timing had been good, thankfully, as the loud crash covered their rockets. She reached the other side, affording her one look behind.

No one was on the balcony. Everyone on the ground was hard at work. She didn’t have time to think about _why_ no one was there, climbing into the shaft.

It wasn’t a long fall. Maroo landed on her feet, stepping aside as Mor hit the ground with a dull metallic ring.

Xarra stopped walking toward the other end of the storeroom.

“I thought Tenno were supposed to be helpful,” Maroo said.

“I said I was getting the intel, did I not? You don’t have to worry about me.”

“I thought they weren’t supposed to be liars either.”

“I don’t need to hear that from _you_ ,” he spat. “You and Mor are far, far from honest.”

“I don’t care what you think about me. You joined _my_ job. Do something like that again, and you’re off of it.”

“Is that a threat?”

“No. I’m just telling you what will happen. Maybe this time around, I’ll get a _real_ Tenno. Might cost me a bit more, but it seems to be more and more worth it.”

Xarra clenched his fists, “you’re doing this for the riches. Mor’s doing this to stroke her explosive _kink_. I’m doing this to help win our war!” He roared. The Tenno didn’t flinch at the noise he was making, standing amidst the fading reverb. “Just because you two revel in the filth of the underworld, doesn’t mean _I_ want to!”

“I don’t care.”

“…What?”

“I don’t care about your motivations, _tin suit_. Start trying to be a good boy after we’re done, but right now the job is most important. That’s what you agreed to, coming on. You lie, you backstab, can you at _least_ hold your word? Even Mor has done better than you with that.”

Xarra stood silently, tense as stone. Maroo made her way to the door, passing the Tenno. “If you _don’t_ want to keep jeopardizing this mission, the stay quiet and follow. Otherwise, I’ll just see if the Lotus has any half-decent Tenno I can use. I’m sure they’ll do much better.”

Mor’s footsteps rang behind her, metal against metal. Maroo listened, waiting, as she strode with confidence to the terminal locking the exit. She didn’t manage five steps when Xarra’s heavy feet resounded behind her.

_Good_ , she thought. That was a gamble, but truth be told, she didn’t know _what_ she’d do if Xarra left. Better to have a cheaper, dysfunctional Tenno than an expensive and real one.

What would have taken Maroo five minutes had taken all of them nearly twenty—the easy part. Who knew what sort of security measures Vey Hek put inside his own compound, around his own room? They’d find out, but not in any way Maroo would have liked to.

“Everyone ready?” she asked. “From this moment on, I don’t want any more _Ghoulsack_. Even a little could kill our chance. We’ve already treaded the line with Mrs. Luck today, and I don’t want to be on her bad side. You hear?”

Mor nodded. Xarra didn’t respond.

“Good enough.”


	4. Vey Hek's Compound: Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maroo's way of life was dying.  
>  The Tenno, their Warframes, had changed the Origin System: both on the front lines of the war, and in the shadows of the black markets. Jobs were getting harder to come by, money even more scarce.  
>  So when a mysterious 'Newborn' offers a job for ten thousand Platinum, she couldn't refuse. The only problem was, it was to steal the Grineer's most prized possession, something so well hidden, Maroo had never heard of it:  
>  Orokin Blood.  
>  With only a handful of days, Maroo has to pull off the hardest heist of her life, while trying to keep her two makeshift allies-an insane Cephalon and an exiled Tenno-from not ruining the only chance she has. She could live like an Orokin, but could she really steal from the Queen's themselves?
> 
> (This takes place before the Tenno awaken from the Second Dream)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New Chapters every other Friday! Follow me on Twitter (@IsaWriting) for updates! And, of course, thanks for reading!  
> This takes place before the Tenno awaken from the Second Dream.

It was like Vey Hek got off over security.

Every fifty meters—one hundred if they were lucky—was some sort of check, patrol, or trap for the unaware. The base was already massive, but grew into a sprawling labyrinth underground. Most rooms and halls were dark, metallic, and quiet, making every unwanted sound resonate much farther, something that gave even more pressure to the extra patrols. At the very least, the security cameras were easy to avoid. They were wired in blocs, and with as much complexity as one would expect from the Grineer.

Maroo defused her sixth magnetic barrier covering the door, hearing Mor’s mechanical fingers behind her unfurl.

“Mor,” Maroo said. “You were doing great. Don’t touch anything now.”

“I’m _trying_ to help,” she whispered.

“Thanks, but no thanks. I got this part fine.”

So far, she hadn’t let anyone move without her permission, and opted to do everything herself. Xarra tried to go rogue, and Mor… was Mor. Each step felt like a fight in itself, trying to make sure no one was spotted or activated some device that they hadn’t noticed.

“Okay,” Maroo said. “We’re clear. On me.”

She stood, unholstering her suppressed Lex and treading through the now-safe opening. Xarra and Mor followed, leading to an identical hall as before. Their map-data indicated they were on the right path, but without it, any normal person would get lost in the repetitiveness.

“Maroo,” Xarra said. “It wouldn’t—”

“Enough, tin suit,” she rolled her eyes.

“Listen to me, this could help _you_ too,” Xarra muttered. “Lotus is wary of you, some of the Syndicates have a bounty on your head.”

“I don’t need advice. You can shut it.”

“Just one extra vial, for the Lotus—”

“Don’t you think you’re getting a bit ahead of yourself?” Maroo stopped, turning. “Maybe start worrying about what we do with the stuff _after_ we get it? Or do you want to find a room, maybe discuss it there while we wait patiently to be sent to a prison camp?”

She listened. Not for the inevitable whine from Xarra. But for any patrols.

“We should be thinking about this now.” He said.

“No. No ‘we’ shouldn’t. Stay focused. Or did you forget that we can’t make any mistakes?”

He scoffed, nodding over his shoulder.

“Mor!” Maroo growled. “ _Stop_!”

The Cephalon was elbow-deep in the wall, grabbing a handful of wires. The bile-yellow panel rested to the side. “I wasn’t loud!”

“That’s _not_ the problem,” Maroo rubbed her temple. “We’re moving.”

She almost made it to the next door, before the itch at the back of her mind became too much. She was forgetting something. Turning, Maroo realized what it was. “Mor. Put the panel back.”

The Cephalon started, looking back at the mess she made. “Why?”

Xarra chuckled.

“Just do it.” Maroo said. _Ten thousand Plat,_ she told herself. _Ten thousand Plat…_

Their path left only two hundred meters to Hek’s data-vault. She was noticing a pattern: it was usually an area guarded by some trap, then an area patrolled, repeated. _What if things get switched? Or it gets tighter?_ She thought, before shaking her head. _No. We’ll cross that bridge as soon as we’re off this burning one_.

“She’s going to ruin everything.” Xarra said as the Cephalon walked off.

“We don’t have a choice,” Maroo spat. “You almost ruined everything, too.”

“No, _you_ did. I made sure I was undetected. You came after me.”

“Don’t you _give_ me that,” Maroo jabbed a finger in his chest. Mor returned, ending their conversation. Maroo gave the signal to keep moving, leading the group to silently tread down the next corridor. Alcoves housing lockers were intermittent, making Maroo’s paranoid tic want to check each one, as if there would be some hidden camera or turret in place. She wouldn’t put it past the Councilor.

“Do you really want to live like this?” Xarra said.

“I told you,” Maroo muttered. “Enough.”

“I’m going to find a way to get this to the Lotus. No matter what you, or your insane Cephalon pet, do.”

“ _Hey!_ ” Mor snapped as loud as she dared.

“I didn’t ask,” Maroo said. “Focus, Xarra. I don’t have the patience for this.”

She listened for footsteps. Steam hissed down an adjacent hall, blocking her. Xarra sighed, covering possible sounds, if there was any, for that much longer.

A patrol was coming. Maroo hand signaled them to wait, but Xarra kept talking.

“Do you not feel guilty?” he said. “Or are you too high off your own greed to care? I’m sick of people like you. Mor I can excuse, but you—”

“Shut it.” She hissed, nodding toward the coming echoes of boots.

“Oh, did I hit a nerve? Maybe that says something.”

The steps were getting closer. Too close.

“ _Xarra. Shush._ ”

Mor beaded between Maroo and the door.

“ _I_ could have done this alone, but you wanted to make sure your share was _fat_ so you brought—”

“ _Mor. Hide._ ” Maroo whispered.

The Cephalon dashed to a closet door. Xarra whipped around, “What?”

Maroo grabbed the Tenno by the waist and yanked him into an alcove, squeezing behind the lockers. Xarra, stunned, turned his head, but Maroo grabbed his chin and put a finger where his mouth would be.

“ _Shh,_ ” she said.

A Grineer Lancer and Gunner strolled past, having a conversation, stopping by the lockers on the opposite side. One opened, and the Lancer grabbed a stash of credits. The metal clicks of their armor died away.

“Maroo,” Xarra muttered. “I—”

“Almost threw everything into the Voiddin’ incinerator? Yeah, you did. _Mor_ is doing a better job than you. _Mor_.”

“I’m… sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. Be _quiet._ And Focus.”

They had got this far, against what Maroo thought would be a suicide mission. No way was she going to let things trip now. She squeezed into the hall, opening the closet on the other side. Mor stepped out, looking over Maroo’s shoulder towards Xarra.

“He looks rough,” she said.

“Don’t worry about him. Good job hiding, Mor. You’re getting the hang of this.”

“Oh, yay!” she said. “I can blow something up then!”

“ _No_.” Maroo said too loud. “No… not yet. Let’s get this done first.”

“Okay, okay…”

The Tenno had nothing more to say as they trekked onward, bestowing the blessing of silence as Maroo worked. That pattern repeated: she knew when to avoid patrols, when to look for detection tech, and what areas could be safe. But as they passed the one-hundred-meter point, the patrols stopped. The last obstacle, however, was much worse.

“Oh, _damn_.” Maroo said, hearing a sharp _purr_. As they turned a corner, four laser barriers blocked the only hall forward. Just fifty meters away. A dry heat emanated, trapped by the metal confines. _Why am I surprised?_ Maroo kicked herself. _Of course Hek would go crazy right at the end._

A console stood near the wall. She studied it, entered a few keystrokes, but tossed her hands up. “This is too tight for me,” she grunted. “I can’t hack in.”

Xarra had his arms locked at his sides, head bowed. _Void, now he’s like_ this _?_ She thought, _no chance he can help_. “Mor, can you—”

“What?” she snapped. “Can I _what_?”

“…Hack in.”

Her head grew deep in hue. Maroo blurted, “you’re the only one that can do it!”

Xarra didn’t move.

“Just this once,” Maroo said. “For me?”

“I’m no Cephalon!” she grunted. “I don’t _want_ to! It’s not what I do!”

“Then we’re stuck here.”

Mor scanned the area. But this was the only hallway. Maroo knew Hek would make sure of that. “There has to be another way…” Mor said.

“There isn’t.” Maroo said. “Mor, _please._ ” She hated that word. But she was desperate.

The Cephalon’s fists clenched the longer she thought. “ _Only_ to get through this,” she muttered. “Never again.”

Maroo nodded. If they came across something else… well, she’d find a way. Mor’s fingers morphed, jamming into the side of the terminal.

“No mess ups this time,” Maroo said. “Vey Hek isn’t going to ignore a smoking terminal here.”

“Fine.” Mor spat. Prompts flashed on the screen in droves, far too fast for Maroo to keep up.

“Only— _stop_ … Only Service…” Mor muttered. “ _Ugh…_ ”

The lasers dimmed to nothing, the waves of heat vanishing to a cool silence. Mor forcefully ejected her hand, shaking it out like it was covered in vomit.

“Alright… we’re close.” Maroo sighed. She led them through the now-safe corridor, which opened to a horizontal hall. There were two doors, one at each end, to their right and left. A third door sat on the opposite side. All three were locked.

“It’s going to be… that one,” Maroo pointed to the center. This time, the lock wasn’t as hard to crack. As the hydraulics hissed, the electrical purr of the lasers reared to life behind them. Now they’d have an audio cue if someone was coming.

The room appeared identical to every other Grineer data-vault Maroo had ‘visited’—cramped, dank, and dim, with the exception of the bile yellow glow from the plethora of screens. Massive cables sprawled the floor, hiding their true lengths in the walls, leaving trails of yellow energy as data flowed.

“It’s all here,” Maroo said, smiling. “It’s under a different name, but it’s all here.” _How in the Void did we get this far?_ She wanted to laugh, but the tension gripping her stomach stopped her.

“I _hate_ this, Maroo,” Mor pouted. “I want to _blow this up_! Why did you take me?”

“You’re the one that wanted to come,” Maroo shook her head. She wasn’t even annoyed.

“I…” Xarra started. “I still want to hand this over to the Lotus.”

“Over my cold corpse, tin suit.”

“The Lotus would reward you too.”

“Yeah!” She rolled her eyes. “A nice head pat, some credits, and a _warm_ smile. Truly, priceless.”

The Tenno clenched his fists so tightly they were shaking. _Damn, maybe too far,_ Maroo thought. _I have to keep him in line. Just a little longer._

“We can talk about it when we get back,” Maroo said. “Right now isn’t—”

“I know your answer. Don’t toy with me.”

Maroo open and shut her mouth. “I have it.” She announced. “Let’s go.”

They exited, Maroo taking one scrutinizing sweep of the room to make sure nothing was misplaced, before letting the door shut and reinstating the lock. “Alright, there’s an elevator that’ll take us right to the wall, probably Hek’s—”

“ _Void._ ” Xarra muttered, closing his holographic map and bolting down the hall.

_Dammit_. Maroo broke into a sprint. But the Tenno was faster. _Now what? Don’t throw it all away now!_

He was running toward a dead end. Reaching the door, his fingers scrambled, a cacophony of clicking bouncing through the air. The door opened just as Maroo and Mor arrived, hitting them with a wave of climate-controlled air.

Canisters and canisters piled atop each other, filled with a glowing red.

“No _muckin_ ’ way.” Maroo uttered. The Orokin Blood _was_ here. She didn’t think… the dates were a week away… _But this was excess, of course the Queens couldn’t hold it. If they could, this wouldn’t be a job right now_. She should have realized that the Orokin Blood _had_ to be here.

“It wasn’t on the map,” Xarra said. “This entire block. I knew something was off.”

Maroo cautiously put a foot in the room, checking for any security. Nothing. She performed a local scan. Nothing. Despite all the evidence, a sticky hesitance gluing her joints. They had made it _this_ far, they knew exactly when and where to strike. If there would be _any_ room in the compound with some trick, it would be this one.

Still, she pressed, and entered the room. No alarms rang out. No emergency lockdown triggered. In fact, it was almost cozy—the breaths she took were crisp and cool, everything was spotless, and the giant canisters were stacked neatly. The ruby fluid seemed to be alive, twisting and melding with itself within the glass. When she was told there was “excess” and only to get a vial, she’d assumed there wouldn’t be much. But there was enough to drown in. _What do the Queens need_ this _for_? _Keeping this much a secret?_

“Mor,” Xarra said. “Help me carry this one.”

“ _Don’t_ touch it.” Maroo barked.

They both started. “Don’t?” Xarra asked. “Why _not_? It’s right here!”

“It’s too much! We can’t sneak out lugging that around! And what if they have trackers? What if its laced with proximity-based explosives? You really think they’d leave something like this unguarded?”

“If this is ‘unguarded’, then what did we just suffer through?”

“And there are no explosives on here,” Mor said. “Though I could put them on if you want me to!”

Maroo cringed.

“Why risk more operations when we don’t have to?” Xarra said. “There is more than plenty here. One of these things will be enough for the both of us.”

“That’s true, but…” Maroo trailed off. They had got what they came for, why get greedy? Why risk what was already a miracle? “No,” she said. “We’re leaving, and we’re not taking it. We’re sticking to the plan.”

“Maroo—” Xarra said.

“We’ve already made it this far. We know where it’s going to be. We just… we shouldn’t.” She watched the Blood dance energetically in its confines. There was a part of her, a growing one, that wanted to take it. Xarra had a point, why not grab it while it’s right in front of them? No one would expect it.

“You?” Xarra said, as if reading her thoughts. “Playing it safe? That’s not like you, Maroo.”

“It’s _Ten Thousand Platinum_! I’m not doing this for the thrill! What, you think I’m insane?”

“You’re not?” Mor said.

“Oh, _shut_ it, salvage.” Maroo said.

“Even if they catch us, we’ll _have_ it.” Xarra said.

Maroo had nothing; Xarra was right. But _still,_ something was holding her back. _One mess up, one mistake, and my whole_ life _could be over_ , the thought made her buckle internally. She didn’t have a backup plan. She didn’t have a plan in the first place, and that could only go ‘well’ for so long.

“No… we _just_ can’t. We’re set to get it. I’m not going to—”

“Uh oh…” Mor said. “I don’t hear it.”

“Hear what?” Maroo said. And then, a punch to her gut.

The lasers.

Vey Hek didn’t make footsteps. But the levitation engines whined through the narrow hall, bottlenecked by the tight metal. She ducked, compacting herself to hide behind an array of containers. There wasn’t time to tell the others. Hek would check the room. No way he wouldn’t. Thankfully, the door whistled shut, metallic shuffling dancing in the air, Xarra and Mor following her example.

Within a few heartbeats—which were coming faster—the door hissed open again. She controlled her body, fighting the rising adrenaline. Keeping her breathing slow, quiet. No movement. Whirrs came from behind. Hek’s sensors were searching the room, for her. For them. What could have been a few seconds or a few hours, the door plates collided together. Maroo looked in the reflection of one of the glass vials, only providing a muddy hue of black and grey. No bright yellow. Hek was gone.

She shuffled to her feet, seeing Mor and Xarra doing the same.

“We are leaving, _now_.” She muttered. The councilor would probably be in his study, giving them a window to escape.

The others gave hurried nods.

* * *

Senior Councilor and Head General of the Earth Conquest Frontier Vey Hek was a very busy man. As he hovered into his quarters, he promptly locked into his commanding seat, heavy bolts satisfyingly _clicking_ into place. Too much to do. Too little time. As always.

There was the next Ghoul launch, the Fomorian construction, but those fell to the sides. For his Queens had given him a task, which meant it must be addressed before _anything_ else. He had done his customary check of the Kuva (his subordinates had called it ‘Orokin Blood’, a crude term), and found the only thing out of routine was the door being unlocked.

And in Vey Hek’s policy of operation, that meant something was wrong.

_He_ wouldn’t have forgot to lock it. Perhaps one of his commanders—of which he only trusted two—neglected to lock the door. He would have to find the one that did it and execute them. Publicly. Or perhaps it was something worse, a possibility that Hek did not want to consider.

One of his holo-screens flashed. A report from one of his troops. _How_ dare _they think they can report directly to me?_

As he read, however, he stopped. Something _was_ wrong. The latches hissed open, letting him speed away. The laser barrier turned off automatically at his presence, and in moments was at his elevator.

Why was it on its way back down? Had someone used it? Without his _permission_? The news was getting more and more disturbing, leeching his insides as he rode to the surface.

The sweet scents of oil, sweat, and burnt fuel hit his nostrils—the smells of Grineer strength. Little time was afforded to its indulgence, Hek rushed to the site discussed in the report, sending dirt up behind him. Soldiers and workers stopped what they were doing, snapping to crisp salutes.

The aroma of smoke grew stronger, tainted by electrical shorts. He rounded the corner of a dry storage block, sending the reporting guards into alert and seeing what they described. What had made him so hasty.

A lock console had been blown from the inside, leaving burn marks around the edges of the ferrite case.

_Computers do not just explode,_ Hek thought, grinding his teeth. _The worst possible scenario…_

_Someone knows._

If they, whoever they were, managed to get into _his_ compound, they could have found the Kuva. _But the volume was correct, I checked not five minutes ago,_ he realized. _Maybe they couldn’t transport it? Even if its existence was leaked and found by some maggot, they wouldn’t know what it was held in. They might not have been prepared._

_But they would know when it would be moved. And they’d be prepared next time._

As if on cue, a sleek spacecraft jetted into the air in the distance, far enough to look no bigger than a Crondoc. A design that resembled nothing of Grineer beauty.

“Let the word be known.” He announced. “I shall double the patrols, triple the security. And send for Commander Grahn and Yurik.”

The soldiers scrambled to complete their orders. _Eager to serve,_ he watched with pride. Just like he was. He wouldn’t shift the transport date, why would he? For it would be a wonderful day.

His Queens would not only get their Kuva, but the heads of whoever thought they could tread on their power.


	5. Uncomfortable Calm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maroo’s way of life was dying.  
> The Tenno, their Warframes, had changed the Origin System: both on the front lines of the war, and in the shadows of the black markets. Jobs were getting harder to come by, money even more scarce.  
> So when a mysterious ‘Newborn’ offers a job for ten thousand Platinum, she couldn’t refuse. The only problem was, it was to steal the Grineer’s most prized possession, something so well hidden, Maroo had never heard of it:  
> Orokin Blood.  
> With only a handful of days, Maroo has to pull off the hardest heist of her life, while trying to keep her two makeshift allies—an insane Cephalon and an exiled Tenno—from not ruining the only chance she has. She could live like an Orokin, but could she really steal from the Queen’s themselves?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New Chapters every other Friday! Follow me on Twitter (@IsaWriting) for updates! And, of course, thanks for reading!  
> This takes place before the Tenno awaken from the Second Dream.

As if knowing her nerves were on edge, Maroo’s _Swallow_ played her a calming song of beeps and hums.

Xarra and Mor, who was being distracted by a pile of junk Maroo had lying around, left her alone in the cockpit. Her legs rested on the dash, arms folded behind her head. Small brown asteroids danced amidst each other, like Razorflies bogged by tar. She’d triple checked the coordinates—knowing it made perfect sense to be here of all places—but anxious none the less. Maroo managed to hide her ship in a deep crater of a larger asteroid, though it meant she wouldn’t get a visual when the Queens arrived. She eyed her radar. Eyed it again. And again.

Her jaw hadn’t unclenched since their miracle at Vey Hek’s compound. No matter how forcefully she tried to think of other things, it always came back to figuring out how they could have stolen the Orokin Blood. _It was right there…_ she thought for the fiftieth time.

Maroo had come up with at least ten possibilities.

_We could’ve gone loud, we could have just waited until Hek left and carried the Blood to the elevator, we could have— Dammit, stop!_

Her thoughts sidestepped her efforts. _There were no explosives on them. Mor could have found any trackers on the ship and disabled it. Even if there was a tracker—and even if it was too complex for Mor to crack, we could have moved the Blood to a different container and left the original behind._

Maroo slammed her fist into a metal panel, earning an extra loud beep as reprimand from her ship.

She had been scared. That was all there was to it. With a sigh that left a bitter taste in her mouth, she stood to walk around. They were early anyway.

The _Swallow_ had been her companion for as long as she’d been in the business: it’d been so full that it had trouble flying, been so empty she could hear a shell drop on the other side, and everything in between.

Her footsteps echoed for far longer than she’d liked, hammering a reminder into her skull.

_You almost have nothing. That Ten Thousand Platinum could save you… but you better not mess up_.

Xarra stood in one empty room, looking out a tiny window, arms crossed.

“Do you seriously have to look angsty when no one’s around?” Maroo asked, stepping inside.

The Tenno didn’t budge. “I’m thinking.”

“Oh? about what?”

“Last mission.”

“Look, if you learned your lesson, then stop—”

“I’m sorry.”

“Tin suit, how many times do I have to tell you, I don’t need your apology.”

“Would you _shut_ it and listen.” Xarra shook his head. “I nearly failed, twice. I was sick of living in this nasty, vile place. I hated stealing, _killing,_ for every little thing. I wanted to go _back_ , Maroo. Do something _good_ for once.”

“That’s why you joined me.” Maroo said. “It wasn’t the money. It was the Grineer.”

“I hated both of you, you know. You and Mor.”

“I was painfully aware.”

“People like you are the problem. The Tenno would have this system at peace if it weren’t for the chaos. If it weren’t for you all who thrive in it. Propagating it.”

“I don’t know if you noticed, but I’m doing this to _survive_.”

“I know. That’s the part I hate the most.”

The Tenno turned, facing Maroo.

“I had painted you two as evil things, things I should never associate with. I wanted nothing to do with you.” He stopped. “But you two, like everything else in this cursed system, just want to live. I was too harsh, and that almost cost us everything.”

Maroo shook her head, laughing to herself. “Congratulations tin suit, you’re human. I mean, you’re _whatever you are_ , but you still make mistakes. We all do. Void, if I didn’t make mistakes, I wouldn’t be in this position in the first place.”

She walked to the window, partly to have something to look at, but partly to check if there were any Grineer ships in sight. Xarra joined her.

“I still would like to hand part of it over to the Lotus.” He said.

“As long as I get my share, I don’t care what you do.”

“…Thank you.”

They stood in silence, admiring the beauty of space. Only the dull hum of the ship stimulated Maroo’s ears, making the sluggish rolls of the rocks outside feel even more numb.

Yet, anxiety for the mission tangled her insides. Stealing from the Queens was something only thought of in hyperboles.

“You know…” Maroo said. “You don’t have to be under the Lotus to do the right things.”

“Hm?”

“Lots of people are fighting. Fighting against the Grineer, the Corpus, the Infested. They’re trying to do their part. Trying to protect their place in this Void-forsaken universe. They could use someone like you.”

“They know to get word to the Relay—”

“Even the Lotus can’t reach everywhere.”

Xarra gazed through the window, thoughts deep inside, churning.

“You’re not a bad thing, Xarra. Certainly not cut out for this line of work, if you ask me. You’re a lot better than you give yourself credit for.”

“… Thank you, Maroo. I mean it.”

She chuckled, “Yeah, well, that’s the only time you’ll ever hear me talk like that. So remember it well, and tell nobody. I have an image to maintain.”

“Fine, fine.” He said. Maroo could practically hear his smile under the mask. “I suppose I know how to… how do those Fortuna people say it? ‘Muck up’ an Obelisk or two?”

“Yeah, that sounds about right.”

Xarra cocked his head, raising a finger.

“What—” Maroo started.

“ _Shh_.”

Maroo had no idea what the Tenno was up to, until she heard what he had. It was quiet, only reaching them in muddled reverberations.

Muffled sniffs. Ones coming through an augmented speech generator.

“Can Cephalons even cry?” Maroo whispered.

The Tenno seemed to roll his eyes, “ _Apparently._ Come on.”

“What? Let’s leave her alone! It’s not our problem!”

Xarra ignored her, walking to the hall. _Void_ , she thought. _One little pep-talk and he already thinks he’s a hero._ Begrudgingly, Maroo followed.

They had found Mor where they left her: in the now-messy waste densifier room. Parts of junk weapons were scattered like confetti, mixed with random shards of metal. The Cephalon faced the corner, not aware of her guests, arms slack and holding another scrap part.

Xarra knocked on the doorframe. Mor tensed.

“What do you want?” She hissed.

“To know why a Cephalon is crying by herself.”

“I’m not a _Cephalon_! I’m _me_! I’m _me_!” She threw the piece at the wall, shattering with a crash.

“Calm down,” Xarra said. “I just want to—”

“Oh, shut it you half-Tenno! You’re just as broken as I am! And you too Maroo!” Mor turned. “I don’t want to hear _anything_!”

“That’s very true,” Xarra sighed. “But I’d still like to hear what’s bothering you.”

“Why? Boredom made you curious again?”

“If that’s what you want to believe.”

Mor fell silent, grabbing a large chunk and fiddling with it. Her voice dropped low, “I hate this… is it really so _hard_ to be happy?”

“You can be—”

“It’s either be _happy_ or be _useful_ , and only one of those can pay for my maintenance!” She snapped. “Not many options for when people want Cephalon work! I’m the only one unaffiliated! But demolition experts? Weaponsmiths? A credit a dozen for those! Not to mention ones who can _mentally function_!

“Who wants weapons from an insane Cephalon! Who wants to trust _that_? I’m sorry my mind was _stolen_ from me! I just want to do the things that excite me, but apparently that’s _wrong_!”

Mor’s head was so deep in color that it was opaque, casting everything around her in its glow.

“I…” Xarra fumbled. “I’m sure you’ll find your place…”

“Easy for someone with a suit of God-armor to say.” Mor muttered. “I know you’re both here to make sure I can still _function_ for our ambush… I’ll be fine. I promise. I’ll get to be loud, after all. Finally.”

“You know,” Maroo said. “I did bring you on _for_ your explosive and weapon talents.”

“ _Sure_ seems like it.” Mor scoffed. “Out. Both of you.” She picked at a big chunk of wires and components.

Maroo exited, letting the door hiss shut. She made her way to the cockpit, feeling the Tenno step behind her.

“Didn’t know she could sound that… _human_ ,” he said.

“Kind of surprised she has a sane side to her.” Maroo said, sitting in the pilot’s seat. Nothing on the radar yet.

“You seem so casual about it.”

“And you seem concerned. Which seems just as strange to me.”

“I feel we should do something about it.”

“Void, one compliment and you’re Lotus’s loyal Dax again?”

“She’s been with us through this. At the very least, we can try.”

“ _You_ can try. As long as she does her part and I get my plat, I don’t care what state she’s in.

“I don’t believe that. I can see through that ‘image’ of yours.”

“I believe you don’t have eyes, tin suit.”

* * *

The Grineer showed on the dot.

Two blips on the screen beeped, sending Maroo into hyper-alertness. After confirming it was the Grineer, she sprinted down the hall to rally the others.

“It’s time!” She yelled. “Get yourselves ready!”

“Aye!” Xarra called.

“Shut up!” Mor screamed. “I’m almost done!”

“You’re done now!” Maroo called. “Get moving!”

She skidded into the pilot’s seat, moving the ship silently out of landing position and crept into the Asteroid field carefully. The ships were below, a large transporter and several Outriders, landing on an asteroid near the size of a small moon.

“What’s the status?” Xarra said, putting a hand on the seat.

“I have visual. Working to make sure they don’t see us enter.”

The _Swallow_ could fool the Queens’ sensors into thinking it was a Galleon. But it was the traditional rules of thieving that were important: if someone saw her, they’d be caught. Maroo glided around asteroids as if it were a minefield, precisely flying through openings, stopping when the spinning rocks were too chaotic to pass. With each push, the engines whined, whistling in bursts.

“We’re going to drop in, and the ship will land nearby,” Maroo said. “I’ll signal it when we’re ready to go. Did you find the grav-pallets?”

“Yes.” Xarra said.

“Good.” Maroo attempted a sigh, but her body was too tense. _Relax,_ she told herself. _Breathe. Everything is on schedule. The hard part is over._

As if to prove her point, the timing was perfect, allowing her to smoothly hover over the landed group. There were no windows facing upward on the vessels. A deeper scan found the back compartments were empty. The next compartment over held the Orokin Blood.

“Right,” Maroo said. “Let’s get this damn thing.”

She air-sealed her suit as she walked down the hall, Xarra and eventually Mor in tow. A smile danced on her lips; she could almost _taste_ the Platinum. Grab it and go. That’s all this was, and she’d become one of the richest people in the system.

“Get ready to drop.” She said, voice muffled by her suit. The three stood over the release plate. Maroo slapped the button, sucking her and the others into open space. The momentum proved enough, sending her gently toward a hatch. With a bit of coordination, they squeezed into their target, and in moments were in the transporter.

“Alright,” Maroo’s suit went to normal. “Be ready to move. We’re taking _one_.”

Mor nodded. Xarra tossed the grav-pallet in the air, catching it again. She sidled toward the compartment gate, pistol at the ready. The electronic lock came undone with a few mechanical clicks, opening to a view very familiar.

Tanks stacked atop each other, filled with vibrant reds. The size would be easy enough to get back to the ship, even with the grav-pallet holding it.

“Mor, get us ready to go. Xarra, grab one—”

Belting laughter erupted, bouncing all around the metal confines.

“Ah, I see.” Vey Hek’s voice emanated from everywhere. “Maroo. I should have known!”

The doors locked. Maroo frantically searched for the source of his voice, a black hole forming in her stomach.

_How! How did he expect us!_ She winced. _We were fools to think he wouldn’t find_ something _… Dammit!_

The opposite door unlocked, simultaneously releasing dozens of soldiers adorned in red and black and sucking their prize away. Vey Hek followed, narrowly squeezing through the opening, howling with laughter.

Mor looked to Maroo. So did Xarra. They expected some plan, some backup plan, some backup-backup plan. But for the second time this job, she had nothing.

Nothing except an overwhelming sense of defeat.

“Well, the whole system will be pleased to see you gone!” Hek continued. “You brought us a Cephalon to repurpose… _and_ a Warframe! My, my, you are quite _generous_!”

“I—”

Every gun in the room snapped to her head.

“No, I don’t want to hear your cocky quips.” Hek said. “Your screams are preferred. Actually,” a sensor raised like a finger, “I would like to hear one thing. _Who_ tipped you to this information? If you tell me, I’d be much more inclined to spare you.”

“Oh?” Maroo said. “Well, you see, I fall in the majority when it comes to jogging memory. When thirty guns are pointed at my head, it’s hard to think.”

Despite the act, Maroo’s mind scrambled. _Only two exits. One behind me is locked. Mor could possibly self-destruct, but that could harm me too. Xarra… does Xarra have energy? Could he_ …

Nothing. She needed more time. She needed to hold Vey Hek’s attention a little longer. _There has to be a way out._

Hek scoffed, waving his hand dismissively and leaving. “Seize them.”


	6. Finale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maroo’s way of life was dying.  
> The Tenno, their Warframes, had changed the Origin System: both on the front lines of the war, and in the shadows of the black markets. Jobs were getting harder to come by, money even more scarce.  
> So when a mysterious ‘Newborn’ offers a job for ten thousand Platinum, she couldn’t refuse. The only problem was, it was to steal the Grineer’s most prized possession, something so well hidden, Maroo had never heard of it:  
> Orokin Blood.  
> With only a handful of days, Maroo has to pull off the hardest heist of her life, while trying to keep her two makeshift allies—an insane Cephalon and an exiled Tenno—from not ruining the only chance she has. She could live like an Orokin, but could she really steal from the Queen’s themselves?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New Chapters every other Friday! Follow me on Twitter (@IsaWriting) for updates! And, of course, thanks for reading! This takes place before the Tenno awaken from the Second Dream.

“Duck.”

Maroo had only registered it was Xarra who said that when the ground erupted with dozens of tentacles. She dropped, splashing in the water that appeared as cries and choked breaths stuffed the air. Gunfire pierced the storm, quick splashes signaling the last efforts of the soldiers were failing.

Something resembling silence descended on the room.

Maroo sighed, jumping to her feet, “what would I do without your—”

“Maroo!”

Xarra leaped as a soldier missing a leg grabbed his rifle and squeezed the trigger. Maroo reached for her pistol, tensing for impact but nothing came, except the shadow of greys and blacks that flooded her vision. Xarra’s shield flashed incessantly, shattering to crimson and earning a grunt of pain. Maroo whipped to the side, unloading a dozen shots before she realized the soldier was dead.

She let out a laugh disguised as a sigh, “I had my shield you know. It wasn’t that dire.”

“Oh… right. I thought—”

“Yeah, yeah. Thanks, tin suit. Mor, you okay?”

The Cephalon stood. “Only if we get to _blow that bastard up_!”

“Such a shame,” Hek’s voice blared through the cabin’s intercom. “I won’t be able to capture you personally! My Queens would like that privilege, and I am _happy_ to oblige!

“Don’t try to pull _anything_! I have the… ‘Orokin Blood’, and this time, we’ll make sure there are no _leaks_. Not that it’ll matter to you. Just sit tight, and embrace the honor of the Queen’s… _‘presence’_.” Hek roared with laughter, reverberating menacingly as if to prove his absolute victory.

“Well,” Mor said, asking what already bogged Maroo’s mind. “What do we do?”

_Five Hundred Plat is enough,_ Maroo told herself. _That could last me a bit. I could find some other jobs in the meantime. Get back on my feet. Mor and Xarra weren’t interested in the money anyway, and I’d bet Newborn wouldn’t do anything either—probably just an informant. Unaffiliated._

 _I don’t quite feel like dealing with the Grineer Queens today, or ever. It was a triumph to make it this far, but I think this is as far as I go. Five hundred Platinum is good enough. I’m not risking my life for more,_ she told herself again.

And, surprisingly, she didn’t believe a word of it.

Maroo had breathed on the Orokin Blood. Her ten thousand Platinum. And she didn’t take it. Hek’s ship wouldn’t be too far, especially with her _Swallow_ , an insane Cephalon with an addiction to explosives, and a Tenno who wanted to see the Grineer fall. She didn’t want to think about the logistics, about the plan, about the potential of facing the Grineer Queens. So, she didn’t.

“We’re getting our damn Blood.” She said, tapping her embedded beacon. A quick vibration meant the ship was coming. “I say muck to whatever Hek is going to do about it, I want my _money_.”

The other two nodded in unison. By the time they made it to the latch of the empty compartment, their ride was waiting, and in a breath were in the cockpit, locking onto the Grineer transporter.

“You sure we can catch it?” Xarra asked.

“I can add—” Mor started.

“It can catch a Liset, it’ll be fine. Especially without Mor’s ‘ _boosters’_.”

The Grineer ship popped in and out of visual, weaving through the asteroids with unnatural grace. Every chance she _thought_ she could close the gap with a burst of speed, the sea of rocks got in the way. She cursed to herself, swooping in and out of openings, but stopping at blocked paths equally often.

“We’re losing him!” Xarra said.

“You think I don’t know that!” Maroo snapped. _Just need a straight shot…_

The field was chaotic. Of all the things she lacked experience on, it was flying through the asteroid belt. Something that the Grineer seemed _awfully_ adept at. The transporter still slipped through, as if seeing a path no one else could, shrinking in size.

“Muck it,” Maroo pulled as hard as she could, making her _Swallow_ whine as if yanked upward. Smaller asteroids, sparser. It was good enough.

“Hold onto something,” Maroo said. “And I’m sorry, _Swallow_.”

The thrusters roared with ferocity, jetting toward their prize and earning several thunderous crashes. Her ship still moved. She could repair it later—at the very least, she steered away from the boulder-sized ones. Their target was getting closer. _Much_ closer.

“Alright,” Maroo sighed. “Xarra, I’m sending you out to—”

Everything darkened. The entire field was cast in shadow, something blotting out the sun. Like a Fomorian, Galleon, and asteroid had melted into each other, the amalgamation loomed over everything like a God, a ruler wondering who dare disturb her territory.

The Grineer Queens had arrived.

“By the Void,” Xarra muttered.

“Dammit,” Maroo grunted, checking her scanner. They were gaining on the ship, only a few hundred meters away, but the transporter was half a kilometer from safety. “We’re _sticking_ to it!”

She pressed the throttle, slamming her into her seat and causing Mor and Xarra to lurch. More ominous _thuds_ , but Maroo ignored them. Her eyes darted to the holo-screen as much as she dared. _400 meters… 300 meters…_

Like insects defending the nest, ships burst from the Queen’s fortress.

“Voiddin’ hell,” Maroo grunted. She was getting closer. She’d make it before they did. But their plan—hop in and get out—wouldn’t work. Now she’d have to incapacitate it somehow, without destroying the Blood in the process, keep it long enough to grab one, and get out.

Gunfire came sooner than expected, the fighters were unloading in her direction to scare her off. Maroo focused on her target, but now had to avoid both larger asteroids and the random barrages. The transporter was almost to safety.

“Xarra!” Maroo blurted. “Put your monster on the closest asteroid you can to the target. It can survive in space, right?”

“Well, yes it can but I don’t know if it’s a good—”

“Mor, got any focused explosives? Ones that can be remote controlled?”

“Mhm! Mhm!”

“On my mark,” Maroo said. She couldn’t focus enough on the conversation to explain further. “Be ready.”

No questions came. That either meant they were on the same page, or they’d be going to the same execution. Probably both.

“ _Now_.” She said.

She could only imagine the sounds of splashing and the Kraken’s roar as it materialized on a distant asteroid. The long, slimy tendrils whipped around, desperately reaching for the oncoming ship to no avail.

“Mor,” Maroo said. “Need those focus blasts. Give that thing what it wants.”

Nothing.

“ _Mor._ ”

Maroo turned to see the Cephalon shaking. “Only service…” She muttered under her breath. “Only service… no death… only service…”

“Not _now, dammit_!” Maroo burst. “Come on!” The transporter was keeping course, moving closer. Their window shrinking. “Mor!” She reached, grabbing the Cephalon’s mechanical body. “Uh… don’t blow it up! Don’t use explosives!”

“Only service. I shall serve. That is my purpose…”

The fighters were growing in size. Xarra didn’t know what to do. Neither did Maroo.

“I brought you on for this Mor! Wake up!” Maroo screamed. “I know you’re in there somewhere!”

The Kraken and its asteroid were drifting away. The ship cruised, unperturbed, passing the beast.

“Mor, _I need you_!”

The Cephalon’s head flashed, image fuzzing before snapping to a crisp image. “R-Right! I’m on it!”

Maroo had never seen Mor move so fast, creating a cacophony of metallic clattering. Maroo was back in the cockpit seat when impish missiles streaked across her view, precisely hitting its target, propelling the Kraken toward the transporter. It found itself mysteriously flying towards its prey, eagerly snapping the tendrils and ensnaring the poor vessel.

Maroo flicked several switches, zipping to the scene and making Xarra snag the co-pilot’s seat. “Kraken has got twenty seconds.” Xarra said.

“Watch out for those fighters,” Maroo stood. The _Swallow_ slammed to a halt.

“What?” Xarra said. “What are you doing?”

“The job. _Someone’s_ got to get it, tin suit.”

She bolted to the drop bay, slipping into one empty storage room and swiping the Rezzer from a shelf. Mor crouched in a gunner port, watching their plan unfold.

“Maroo! I don’t know what you did but—”

“Do you have micro-thrusters? On you?”

“Yeah.”

“Gimme.”

The Cephalon didn’t ask questions. The shell-sized jets pinched her all over the back of her body, but it’d give her the maneuverability to get to her Blood. Maroo could only spare a quick nod before getting sucked into the vacuum of space, seeing that the situation hadn’t changed, but only hearing a numb silence.

Her suit guided her to the transporter, now with gas leaking out of punctures and tears as the Kraken wrestled it still. Maroo slipped in, the artificial gravity still functional, yet the guards posted scrambled with their breathing systems, earning a shot in the head for each. She watched the opposite door, pressing the Rezzer to a container as it digitized the physical object and transported it to her _Swallow_.

“Maroo,” Mor said into her comm. “We got it. Get back here.”

“I’m coming.”

Vibrations traveled through her feet, giving her the faint indication someone was screaming. She kicked off another container, boosting to her entrance when the cockpit door opened, revealing Vey Hek shaking in fury.

Maroo could almost hear the “ _Nooooo!_ ”, and savored the acoustic imagery, giving the Grineer Councilor a salute before slipping into open space.

A cannon shot streaked by her head.

The fighters were in combat range, focusing on their fleshy target as she emerged. Maroo pushed the thrusters to full throttle, only earning a measly boost in speed and a glowing outline of her back. Even the Grineer’s crude targeting systems could calculate her trajectory with how sluggish she could move. The micro-thrusters weren’t built for person-to-ship combat.

Another shot whipped by. Now they were playing with her. Trying to breach her suit.

“Xarra, Mor, help me out?” She asked, trying—and failing—to hide her panic.

“I’ll try to get over there!” Xarra said. “My Cephalon usually—”

“You’re _Voiddin_ ’ useless!” Mor said. “Both of you!”

Maroo tensed at a sudden change in velocity, her neck stinging from the pain. Gunfire blazed ahead. The gunners would _not_ let her get away. A trail of neon purple smoke blew into her vision, slamming into one Grineer fighter and exploding, then imploding in vibrant hues, sucking the other ships in. Maroo felt a relieved laugh escape her, smiling at the mini supernova of color where her enemies had been.

The Cephalon pulled her aboard her _Swallow_ , “Oh, good. I didn’t snap your neck.”

Maroo put in a code on her suit, setting the autopilot to flee to pre-programmed coordinates. The metal vibrated, tensing under the abrupt launch as its modified engines zipped far from the Queen’s grip.

“It’s here?” Maroo jumped to her feet, rubbing her nape. “It didn’t glitch out or anything?”

Xarra gestured, leading her to one of her empty rooms, that was now a little less empty. The canister, with its morphing reds, stood in the corner.

She had done it. She was going to—as long as she made Newborn hold his word—get her Platinum.

Her _Ten thousand_ Platinum.

* * *

Maroo, Xarra, and Mor, stood in a derelict Ceres outpost, overrun by gaunt plants and sewage. Xarra’s Warframe would filter the stench, and Mor didn’t have a nose, which meant only Maroo would suffer through the pungent smell.

“It can’t be that bad,” Mor shrugged. “I’ve seen you tough out harder things Maroo!”

“That’s because I had to!” She gagged. “Void it, I’m sealing my suit. We’re talking through comms.”

“How are you feeling, Mor?” The Tenno asked, arms crossed.

“What, every time you’re bored you’re going to ask me how I’m doing? Ah, whatever. I feel _great_!” The Cephalon jumped. “I feel… so much freer. So much more in control.”

“You sound like it too.”

“Yeah,” Maroo said. “This many cohesive sentences? It’s a record.”

“Oh, shut it. I could still blow up this whole facility if I really _wanted_ to. Which, for the record, I _do_.”

“Baby-man wouldn’t like that, and so neither would I.”

The three glanced at the room again—nothing seemed odd about wanting to meet Newborn in a remote place, but it _was_ odd finding their chosen meeting room to house a high-grade Rezzer in the midst of the ruin. He must have put it there before they arrived. Not a speck of grime was on it.

“My apologies,” Newborn said through an intercom somewhere. “I had matters to attend to. Now, you have what I need?”

“I do.” Maroo stood tall, facing down the faceless voice. “But do you have what _I_ need?”

“The Ten Thousand Platinum. Of course I do. I am one of good word.”

“Good word won’t get me what I need on the markets.”

“Hmph. A pity, truly.”

The Rezzer flashed, filling itself with gleaming metal. Maroo approached, snatching a random one and studying it. Authentic. Then another. Authentic as well.

“Going to check all of them?” Newborn said. “Still you have no trust?”

“Those that have trust in my line of work died a long time ago,” Maroo scrutinized another. After the tenth one, her doubts were satiated.

“Help me get it off of here,” she called to the others. The three pushed the Platinum, spilling it onto the ground around them.

“I shall give you the other stacks of it, as soon as I have what _I_ need.”

“Fine,” Maroo sighed, sticking her arm into the glowing area of the Rezzer. She activated her own, materializing the data on her ship into her hand; a vial of Orokin Blood.

“ _Good_.” Newborn said, the Rezzer flashing, bringing his prize to him. “The Platinum is yours, Maroo. Until we meet again.”

The speaker _clicked_. The machine whined, reaching a fevered squeal before a blinding surge forced Maroo to hide her visor.

Platinum overran the room. A giddiness bubbled into her mind, looking at all the pristine and shiny currency.

“Alright,” Maroo kept her tone stern. “Xarra, let’s get your cut.”

“What about mine?” Mor said.

“Your cut? You don’t get a cut.”

“Why not?”

“You didn’t agree to one.”

“I saved your _life_!”

“She can have half of mine,” Xarra said, shaking a small red vial in his hand. “I have what I need anyway.”

“Yeah, sure.” Maroo said. “‘No shields off my back.’ Be thankful, Mor. You’d have got nothing.”

“That’s not fair! We would have failed without me! You said it yourself back there! You _needed_ me!”

Maroo winced. “Yeah, heat of the moment. Sorry, Mor.”

“No! You’re lying!” Mor pointed, head deepening in hue. “I’m going to blow your ship up!”

“Whoa, hey, you wouldn’t—”

“Really? _I_ wouldn’t? I bet that thing would look _beautiful_ as it was swallowed by an Imploser!”

“Alright! Alright! Fifty.”

“No!”

“Remember, _Five hundred and fifty._ ” Xarra said. “Your fault for not asking for a cut up front. Rookie mistake.”

“I’ll blow you up too, _Tin suit!_ ”

“Oh! Stealing my phrase now?” Maroo asked. “That’ll cost you!”

“Your selfishness will cost _you!_ It’ll cost your damn ship!”

“Fine, one hundred. But that’s as high as I’m going.”

“No! One thousand! That’s what Xarra got!”

The three—despite having their prize—argued until dusk as they collected the scattered currency.


End file.
